


Designed to Break

by withthekeyisking



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Bad Person Ra's al Ghul, Bondage, Captured, Creampie, Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Crying, He Does Not Get One, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt No Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Kneeling, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prince Jason Todd, Prisoner of War, because I have no self control, once again writing a one-shot that might become a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking
Summary: Prince Jason Todd knows how prisoners of war are supposed to be treated; he's seen how Bruce handles it often enough.But it seems Ra's al Ghul has a different method for dealing with his royal prisoner.
Relationships: Ra's al Ghul/Jason Todd
Comments: 34
Kudos: 145
Collections: Jason Rare Pair Challenge, Whumptober 2020





	Designed to Break

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scandalsavage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/gifts).



> Mention and ye shall receive, my dude! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> This also technically fits the Whumptober Day 6 prompt? So happy Whumptober everybody!

Jason thrashes against the people holding him, once more testing their grips, but they keep him in place easily, forcing him forward. They don't even flinch, despite his size and strength.

Ra's certainly trains his people well, but Jason's no slouch; being so easily contained rankles.

They reach the end of the hall, and the hooded soldier leading them pushes open a large pair of double doors, striding forward.

Jason glances around as they push him inside. It's a throne room, that's clear as day, with tall, carved columns and a wide open space. But where Gotham's throne room always feels warm and has colored sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass windows, the throne room of Nanda Parbat is painted in darker colors and muted golds, giving off a far more eerie vibe that Jason has no doubt is intentional.

At the end of the large room is a high dais, allowing the man sitting on the throne to look down his nose at them as they come to a stop in front of him. The soldiers not holding Jason in place all kneel, heads bowed, the one in front murmuring, "My king. A gift for you."

Ra's al Ghul rises from his seat, green eyes glinting as they lock onto Jason. Jason keeps his chin held high, glaring at the man with bared teeth.

"Jason Todd," Ra's greets, lips curving upward. "What a surprise." His eyes cut over to one of his men. "How did you capture him?"

"He was leading a small regiment along our southern border in what we believe was an attempt to sneak in," the soldier replies promptly. Considering his head is still bowed, Jason has no idea how he knew Ra's was talking to him. "We found them before they got too far."

It was damn _luck_ that the soldiers came across Jason and his men. The plan was a good one, the result of Jason and his brothers putting their heads together. It was going to work, none of them had a doubt. But then a couple of Ra's' men were taking a fucking _break,_ far away from where they should've been at this time of night.

Some of his men were killed. Others managed to escape. He can only hope they manage to get back to the encampment and tell Dick and the others what happened. Not that they can really do much, thinking about it. Not when Jason is right in the belly of the beast.

"A foolish plan," Ra's says dismissively, once more looking at Jason. His eyes are intense as they scan him, and Jason clenches his jaw, feeling far too much like a bug under a microscope.

He knows he doesn't look his best right now, covered in dirt and sweat from the fight, lines of blood on his face from a head wound and his possibly-broken nose, clothes torn and dirtied. He doesn't look much like the put-together prince of Gotham Bruce would like all of his sons to be. Probably looks far more like the homeless kid he was before Bruce took him in.

"I wonder what Bruce would do for your safe return?" Ra's muses, tilting his head.

 _"King_ Bruce doesn't make deals with men like you," Jason says, yanking against the arms holding him in place, frustrated all over again when they don't budge.

Ra's simply smiles, amused. "There are many things a father would do for his child. I suppose we'll simply have to see how much you're _worth."_

He turns away then, tone offhand when he says, "Give him a bath, he reeks of filth. Then take him to the east wing."

"Yes, my king," the soldier replies, and then they all rise, turning for the door. Jason is roughly tugged after them, his struggles just as contained as they have been thus far.

* * *

They have to remove the shackles binding his wrists and feet in order to strip him, which is of course an opportunity Jason can't pass up on.

The skirmish results in two soldiers receiving broken bones and three more with dark bruises blooming, but they still manage to rip off his clothes and force him into a tub of freezing cold water.

It's a shock to his system, and stuns him long enough that they manage to shove his head underwater and then yank him back up, one of them beginning to scrub lather into his hair while he sputters. Two others grab his arms and wipe at them with rough cloths, scrubbing until his skin is bright pink, and then move on to his legs.

They curse him all the while, hating how much he thrashes, the way he splashes water on all of them. At this point he doesn't have high hopes for his escape—not naked and soaking wet—but if he can make all of their lives difficult then he'll consider this a success.

Getting him out of the tub and then dressing him he makes equally as challenging, and takes no small amount of pleasure from the irritated looks and muttered curses. But eventually they succeed, getting him into the dark robes befitting a noble of Nanda Parbat and then once more chaining his wrists and ankles.

He doesn't fight as hard as they walk back through the halls, instead taking the opportunity to look around, doing his best to memorize the path for his future escape.

The quarters they eventually push him into are shockingly grand, big as Bruce's own back in Gotham. A large bed, an entire dining room table, multiple armchairs and couches, and a roaring fireplace that dominates one wall. These are...royal chambers. And they feel _lived_ in.

Jason turns to the two men guarding the door. "Whose quarters are these?" he demands.

One doesn't react to his words at all, and the other only cocks an eyebrow. Jason doesn't know why he expected an actual explanation.

With nothing better to do, he wanders around, looking at all the various knickknacks strewn about, examining everything intently for what could be used as a weapon. Shockingly, there are a few _actual_ weapons in easy reach; a sword hanging on the wall, a pair of daggers sitting carelessly on the desk, a quiver of arrows leaning against the dresser.

They're either ridiculously cocky, or extremely confident in their ability to keep him controlled. It makes Jason uneasy that he's pretty sure it's the latter.

After what Jason estimates to be at least half an hour, the doors open and Ra's al Ghul enters. He spares Jason only a cursory glance, heading past him without a word and through the door that Jason discovered leads to a washroom.

Jason stands with his jaw clenched, eyeing the length of chain between his shackles calculatingly; it's long enough to get around someone's throat, if he can manage it. The chain between his ankles is shorter, though, and that will be a big hindrance in a fight. Plus Ra's is known to be quite the fighter, he won't go down easily. And then there are the guards to deal with. And then the guards through the rest of the palace.

...Yeah. Escaping isn't looking too possible right now.

But he'll figure it out. Ra's isn't going to kill him, he needs him alive and in one piece to try to make a deal with Bruce for his return. Which means Jason has time.

Ra's reemerges, wiping his hands off on a cloth. He looks Jason over with a critical eye, and Jason shifts uncomfortably, barely containing his wince when it makes his chains rattle and makes his discomfort easy to see.

Ra's expression doesn't change, but Jason gets the impression of amusement.

"Well at least you clean up nicely," Ra's observes. "Something I'm sure Bruce was surprised to learn, considering where he found you."

Jason bristles, baring his teeth in a scowl.

His past is well-known, through Gotham and other countries that pay enough attention. Not just his, but all of his siblings', too. King Bruce taking in strays has become common knowledge, even something people make light-hearted jokes about.

And because it's so well-known, Jason is used to dealing with people turning up their noses at him. The first few years especially were challenging, the various lords and ladies of the court not fond of the "street rat" Bruce proclaimed his son, proclaimed a prince of Gotham. But Jason has a thick skin, and he's proved himself a thousand times over by this point. It's been a long time since anyone made a comment about _where he came from._

Hearing it from an enemy when he has no ability to truly fight back settles just under his skin, an annoying itch he can't get rid of.

"And the color suits your pale skin nicely," Ra's continues. "Far more than that atrocious yellow that Gothamites tend to enjoy parading around in."

Yellow and black, the colors of the house of Wayne. Jason wears them with pride, and definitely with far more comfort than the green and gold of Nanda Parbat.

"What do you _want,_ Ra's?" Jason snaps, hands curling into fists. He doesn't want to talk civilly with this man. He wants to slam his fist into his face for all the shit he's done, maybe grab that sword off the wall and really do some damage. He doesn't want to stand in these ridiculous robes in royal chambers and _talk_ to the man responsible for so much pain and death.

Ra's raises an eyebrow. "You seem to misunderstand your position here, Jason. Unlike your adoptive father, I do not allow disrespect with nothing more than the blink of an eye. You will call me _King_ or _Your Majesty."_

Jason barks a laugh. "You must be joking. You really think I'm gonna call you that? I _don't_ respect you, and like hell am I gonna act like you're better than me. Bruce is my king, not you."

Ra's hums, looking him over again. "We'll see."

He turns away then, walking over to the long table and sitting down at the head of it. He gestures to one of the guards, and they nod, opening the door and walking out. Jason frowns after him, suspicious, but his attention is called back to Ra's when the man says, "Jason. Sit."

He's motioning to the seat to his right, and Jason snorts, ignoring the instruction. Like hell is he just going to roll over and do whatever Ra's tells him to. No, if he wanted an obedient prisoner he sure as hell chose the wrong person.

The guard returns, and with him is a servant girl carrying two trays of steaming hot food. She curtsies to Ra's and then places one of the trays in front of him, the other in front of the chair Ra's had indicated Jason should sit in before.

Despite himself, Jason's stomach growls.

They've been on the road for so long that a full, hot meal really isn't an everyday thing like it would be back home in Gotham. It's not really a big deal, until you're faced with a smell like that and your body betrays you.

Ra's' lips curve in a small smirk. "Will you sit and eat, or will I have my men _force_ you into the chair?" He leans back in his chair, lifting a glass of wine and taking a slow sip. "Your choice."

He's tempted to make them force him. But he _does_ need to keep himself in as top condition as he can manage for whenever an escape opportunity presents itself, which means not accruing any unnecessary injuries and actually eating.

Thinking quite a few unkind things, Jason walks over to the table, sitting down heavily and allowing his chain to rattle extra loudly, just in the off chance that it irritates Ra's. But Ra's simply watches him with a raised brow, sipping calmly from his glass, unbothered.

Thankfully, Ra's doesn't try to speak to him while they eat. He watches him a lot, which is pretty creepy, but Jason's dealt with worse, so he just eats, doing his best to not scarf the food down. It is ridiculously good, rich and flavorful and _warm,_ and he tries to not let any of his pleasure show on his face or in his actions.

Whatever. Let Ra's think he's just a street rat gobbling up any food he can get. What's it matter what this man thinks of him?

He's just about finished everything on his plate when he begins to feel dizzy. His vision blurs ever so slightly, and his limbs seem to almost be tingling.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit._

"Feeling alright?" Ra's asks smoothly.

Jason looks up at him, the man's face swimming in front of him. His mouth is so dry all of a sudden, his tongue not wanting to respond to him.

Shit, fuck, shit, this is so bad. He's been drugged, Ra's fucking _drugged him._ Why? What's the purpose? He has him pretty thoroughly trapped right now, there's no need to drug him into submission.

"Why...?" Jason gets out, squeezing his eyes shut a couple times in an attempt to clear his vision. It doesn't work, and his legs don't respond when he tries to stand up. His chest feels too tight as panic begins to set in.

"Don't worry, it will be out of your system soon," Ra's says, tone offhand. "Fast-acting and fast-leaving. You'll have all your faculties returned to you in about five minutes."

Then _why?_ What is the point of this?

He startles when he feels hands on his biceps, not having heard the guards approach, and they haul him to his feet. He stumbles along between them, trying and failing to walk of his own accord, and groans when they toss him onto his stomach on something with little give.

The hands return just as quickly as they left, roughly stripping him of his clothes. He tries to fight against them, but his body is no longer responding to him at all, leaving him helpless to their manipulations. He can't even kick at them when he feels them unhook the chain between his feet.

His legs are extended and separated, the cuffs then attached to something solid that keeps him in place. His wrists are grabbed next, similarly disconnected from each other and then spread, attached to something firm that feels almost like wood when Jason manages to brush his fingers over them.

And then the touches are gone, leaving him naked and spread eagle on...on a bed.

His pulse thunders in his chest and ears, almost drowning out the quickness of his breathing. _No, no, no, no, no..._

Ra's wasn't lying, at least, about it being fast to leave the system. Jason can already feel his fingers and toes in a way he couldn't a minute ago, can actually wiggle them if he tries hard enough. Then come his wrists and ankles, which he twists, testing his bindings and trying to not hyper-ventilate with panic at the fact that there's no give at all, his limbs truly trapped in place.

Slowly but surely his body comes back to him in full, and he swallows the urge to vomit at the position he's found himself in. This is just an intimidation tactic, it _has_ to be. Ra's is a piece of shit, sure, but there are—there are _lines,_ especially in regard to prisoners. Bruce would _never_ lay a hand on those they captured. Ra's _has_ to be bluffing, just trying to get a rise out of Jason. He _has_ to be.

There's a light touch on his back, fingertips dragging up the length of his spine, and Jason jolts, heart racing.

"You are a pretty thing," Ra's muses. "Big, of course, but you still hold soft features. I can see a hint of what you must've been when Bruce first found you, and I can't blame him for taking you in. A shame that he built you up so well, though."

"Get your hand off of me!" Jason snaps, doing his best to pull away and getting nowhere.

Ra's presses his palm between Jason's shoulder blades in response, firm and unyielding. "Ask _nicely,_ Jason, and maybe you'll get what you want."

Jason squeezes his eyes shut. That's such bullshit; Ra's is going to do whatever he wants to him, and all _asking nicely_ is going to do is humiliate Jason and empower Ra's even further. He won't do it. He can handle this, he can. He can take whatever Ra's is going to throw at him. He _can._

Maye if he says it enough, this won't be as terrifying as it is.

The weight of the bed shifts, and Jason shivers as Ra's' clothes brush over his skin, the man himself settling between Jason's spread legs.

Jason does his best to twist and kick, to knock Ra's off the bed, but Ra's keeps himself in place, evading Jason's attempt with ease. He runs his hands up Jason's calves and thighs, over the swell of his ass, up the lines of his back. One hand circles around Jason's neck, long fingers almost surrounding the entirety of it. His thumb brushes over Jason's thundering pulse, and he hums.

"Are you afraid, little prince?" Ra's murmurs, hands sliding back down and then settling on his ass, squeezing.

Jason gasps, heart lodging in his throat. No, no, this has to be a bluff. Ra's isn't actually going to do this, he _can't_ do this. He's not going to—to—

The hands leave, and Ra's shifts backwards, and for a _single moment_ Jason feels relief that shakes him to the core.

But then there's an oil-slick finger pressing at his entrance.

Jason shouts and bucks upward, eyes wide with panic, breathing fast. But Ra's isn't dissuaded, pushing his finger inside of Jason without hesitation and beginning to pump it in and out.

Jason...Jason's never done this before. He knows people have usually had their first by the time they turn nineteen, but Jason simply hasn't. He's extremely inexperienced, never even—never even had _anything_ in his ass before, and now Ra's is going to...

"No," Jason gasps out. "No, _stop—"_

Ra's chuckles, and doesn't stop. He shifts his fingers around, pulling at the muscles, and Jason does his best to clench down, to show he doesn't want this, but Ra's doesn't seem affected at _all._

He inserts another finger and spreads them. Jason cries out, eyes squeezing shut. It already feels like too much, it's _too much._ It stings, an uncomfortable pressure that he wants to _end,_ the stretch burning as Ra's works to prepare Jason for his own pleasure.

Jason knows the mechanics of anal sex, and he knows what is going to happen when Ra's is satisfied. He doesn't want this, his first time is supposed to be—be _his choice,_ not by his country's enemy. This isn't supposed to happen, this isn't—

Jason gasps, jerking in his bindings as pleasure sparks up his spine, making his toes curl. No, he doesn't want this to feel good, _no, no, no._

Ra's hums. "There you are. Just needed a little _encouragement,_ didn't you?"

"Stop," Jason demands, hating the way his voice breaks. "Stop, _please—"_

"It took your father far longer to start begging when he was your age," Ra's tells him. "But then I suppose he was born into royalty, born with inherent strength. And you were certainly not."

That...that can't mean what it sounds like. Ra's can't mean that he...he _raped_ Bruce, can he? There's no way. Jason knows that Bruce spent some time here when he was younger, but that was part of a diplomatic mission. There's no way Ra's would've—

But Jason also thought Ra's wouldn't do _this,_ and yet here they are.

_Fuck._

The fingers pull out, and Jason can't even feel relieved, because he knows what comes next. He knows where this is headed.

So he thrashes, yanking at his bindings as hard as he can, trying his damnedest to free himself, to even do as much as _close his legs,_ but he gets nowhere. His hands and feet are bound to the four posts that hold up the bed's canopy, and they were clearly made well because they don't so much as budge, keeping him spread eagle, vulnerable to Ra's' touches.

The robes slide over the soft skin on the inside of Jason's thighs as Ra's shifts closer, settling right between his upper thighs. His hands grip Jason's hips and hike them up, pulling painfully at the metal cuffs around his ankles.

"No," Jason practically sobs out as he feels something far larger than a finger poke at his entrance, fear taking him over. "No, please, don't do this—"

Ra's ignores him completely, and begins to push inside.

He moves slowly, which does nothing to offset the burn, the drag of him forcing himself inside a place that was truly not ready. Jason tries to clench down, to keep him from getting any further, but that only makes it hurt even worse.

There's a pause where Ra's stops moving, and Jason realizes that it's because the man is all the way inside. There's still more pain to go, Jason knows, but that at least provides a small amount of relief.

When he squeezes his eyes shut, tears drip down his cheeks.

One of Ra's' hands clamps onto his hip, holding him in his lifted position, and the other presses down on Jason's shoulder, forcing him into a small, uncomfortable arch. His wrists and ankles are burning from all the pulling that's been happening, and they feel almost wet, like it's been enough to cut skin.

Ra's begins to move, dragging Jason's attention back to the more immediate problem than his bindings. The man starts with small rocks of his hips, barely moving more than an inch or two out before pushing back in. It's unpleasant, it _burns,_ but it's something Jason thinks he could endure. He can handle this; he just has to hang on until Ra's is done.

Like he has the ability to read his thoughts, that's when Ra's begins to pick up, drawing almost all the way out before snapping his hips and forcing himself inside in one quick, brutal thrust that draws a shout from Jason, throat clogging with pain.

Ra's keeps going just like that, pulling out _so damn slowly,_ dragging his cock along Jason's insides, and then _shoving_ back in with a force that rocks Jason forward, even managing to draw a scream out of him despite the way he tries to clench his teeth against it.

"Tell me, Jason," Ra's says, overall calmly, just slightly breathless, as he continues to fuck in and out. "Bruce is far too soft-hearted to use you in this way, I know, but surely _someone_ knew to take advantage of the little whore brought into the House of Wayne?"

Someone tried. He'd barely been in the palace a month when Lord Sionis cornered him, sure that his low-born origins meant that he would be easy, sure that he'd already given everything away and would do so again for a few coins.

Jason had kicked him in the balls and run straight to Bruce, and Sionis was almost instantly thrown in prison. It was the first time Jason ever truly trusted Bruce with something.

"Please, stop," Jason croaks out. "Please, no more."

Ra's chuckles and pats his hip condescendingly. "Don't worry, Jason. You will receive proper training during your stay with me. This will become far easier for you soon enough."

Fear freezes Jason's blood at the implications of that. Ra's doesn't intend for this to be a one time thing. He doesn't intend to let go of Jason for a _while._ He's planning on...on _training_ Jason to—

Ra's hits that spot that sends pleasure tingling through Jason's body again, and Jason whines, hating the feeling. He doesn't want this, he doesn't want the man to make it feel good. He just wants it to _end._

He tries to pretend to be somewhere else, far away from Nanda Parbat and King Ra's al Ghul. Back in Gotham with his siblings, playing ridiculous games and sparring to improve their abilities, dinners all together as a family. Happy memories, far from the terrors of today.

It doesn't help. It's _impossible_ to ignore what's happening to him.

Eventually—fuck, Christ, _eventually_ —Ra's stills inside of Jason, groaning quietly. Warmth blooms, a wetness dripping out of him as Ra's pulls out, and Jason gags, stomach churning at the feeling of the man's cum inside of him.

The bed dips as Ra's climbs off, and then there's a hand in his hair, gripping tightly and tilting his head up. Jason tries to jerk away, but it's a weak attempt at best, and Ra's cranes his neck up, forcing Jason to meet his eyes.

He looks pleased, disgustingly satisfied. Jason wonders what he looks like; face and eyes red from crying, expression twisted with pain and some amount of fear.

Jason closes his eyes, as if that could banish the very idea.

"It will get easier," Ra's promises, petting his back like one might a spooked animal.

"I want to go home," Jason says brokenly. He wants his dad, and his brothers and sister. He wants to go back five hours and adjust the plan, make sure he never ends up in Ra's al Ghul's hands, never gives the man the chance to—to rape him.

Ra's drags a thumb over Jason's bottom lip, eyes hooded, and Jason is too shaken to pull away.

"And you will, someday," Ra's says easily. "Provided Bruce agrees to my terms. But until then..."

He leans down and kisses Jason forcefully, licking into his mouth in a dominating kiss that Jason is helpless to stop.

"Until then," Ra's murmurs against his lips, "you're mine to do with as I please."

* * *

When Jason is woken in the morning by a handful of guards, he is too exhausted to fight.

They unchain him from the bed without trouble and then drag him to the washroom, Jason stumbling along between them. Walking hurts, each step sending stabs of pain through his ass, but he doesn't even have it in him to wince.

The water is, at least, warm when they push him into the tub, and he's pliant as they clean him off. He doesn't really want to be touched right now, his skin crawling with each brush of their hands over his skin, but his desire to be clean greatly outweighs his desire to be left alone, so he forces himself to stay still and allow it all without complaint.

They treat his injuries afterwards, both the ones from yesterday that didn't really get looked at and the new ones caused by Ra's. His wrists and ankles are torn bloody from how hard he'd been fighting against his bindings, and they get wrapped with bandages. His nose is not actually broken, thankfully, and his head wound doesn't need stitches.

His ass has some tearing, and he _does_ fight when he's informed that they're going to apply a cream that will help with healing.

They pin him down and do it anyway, and he's just as helpless to stop it as he was to stop Ra's.

He's dressed in dark robes again, and his hands are once again shackled, but his feet are left free. He doesn't know if that's because Ra's doesn't think he's going to attempt to escape or because he knows walking in and of itself right now is difficult _without_ the hindrance of a chain, but he supposes it doesn't really matter either way. He's disgustingly grateful for it either way.

They take him to a large dining room, close to where he remembers the throne room being. The table is long and almost completely filled with people, many of them chattering away in their native language that Jason picks up bits and pieces of, but really isn't trying too hard to listen in on.

Ra's is seated at the head of the table, currently engaged in conversation with the man seated to his left. Jason can feel some of the people glancing over at him, conversations tapering off, but he ignores them all, keeping his eyes on the real threat in the room.

When they get closer, Ra's finally glances over at Jason, not looking at all surprised to see him. His eyes slide up and down Jason's body, an innocent enough action that makes him shudder nevertheless, feeling the phantoms of Ra's' hands on his skin.

"Ah, Jason," Ra's greets. "How nice of you to join us. Did you sleep well?"

Jason has enough fight in him to bare his teeth, expression twisting in a snarl, but not to snap back, the memories of last night all too fresh in his mind.

Ra's simply looks amused. He waves a hand, and the guards on either side of Jason push him forward, not stopping until he's standing right next to Ra's' chair. The proximity makes his skin crawl, and he tries to lean away when Ra's reaches out a hand, longer fingers brushing over Jason's shackled wrist and making his heart speed up in his chest.

"Kneel," Ra's commands.

Jason bristles. _No,_ that is something he will not do. He might've been brought low, but he won't—he won't _kneel_ for this monster.

"Not happening," Jason snarls, shoulders tense.

Ra's doesn't seem bothered by the disobedience, just sending Jason a condescending look.

"Jason," Ra's says, voice dripping in mockery in a way that has Jason's face heating up despite himself. "Do as you're told, or I'll have my men bend you over the table right here and take you in front of all these people."

Jason's eyes go wide, breath stilling in his lungs. He's—he's _bluffing,_ right? There's no way he would...

He swallows and closes his eyes; he needs to stop telling himself there are lines Ra's won't cross when he's already proven himself to exceed expectations.

Slowly, hating himself the whole time, Jason lowers himself to his knees, teeth grinding.

Ra's hums, a quiet, pleased sound, and he takes a handful of Jason's hair, tilting his head up until Ra's can look him in the eye. He looks pleased, just like he did after he raped Jason and promised more pain to come.

"There," Ra's says on a breath. "Right where you belong, hm?"

Jason closes his eyes again, and when he bows his head, Ra's allows him to, but keeps his fingers tangled in Jason's hair.

Then he goes back to the conversation he'd been having before, holding Jason in place at his feet.


End file.
